


The Chance He Deserved

by Jadzia_Lupin



Category: Deep Space Nine
Genre: AU, Ableism, Abuse, Amsha left Richard, Bashir is still very horny, Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, M/M, Neurodivergent Julian Bashir, mental disability
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-10-24 20:03:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20711744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadzia_Lupin/pseuds/Jadzia_Lupin
Summary: This is an AU where when Richard Bashir decided to resequence Julian’s DNA, Amsha left him and raised mentally handicapped Julian by herself.He ends up on DS9. Basically how the series might’ve gone if he wasn’t genetically modified.





	1. Chapter 1

It was September. Jules had just started first grade two days ago after barely passing kindergarten, and his teacher was already requesting to speak to his parents. 

Richard didn’t want to go this time; he was so burnt out from all the parent-teacher conferences last year, he just couldn’t do it. So Amsha arrived at the school alone that day, already knowing what she was about to be told. 

Jules needed help. Lots of it. 

The boy was still struggling to catch on to things he should’ve mastered by age three. If it had been up to Amsha, he never would’ve gone to public school. But Richard had insisted that he would be able to catch up if he was learning alongside other kids in his age group. She doubted he noticed just how much Jules had suffered, how hard he was trying to no avail. All the tantrums he threw trying to make sense of numbers and letters. The bed wetting. The bullying the other kids directed at him. Sure towards the end of the school year he was turning in work and testing okay, but that was just because his only friend Lucius Swanson told him to copy his answers. But Richard didn’t pay attention to this. In his mind, Jules would catch up. But the truth was he wouldn’t. 

That day the teacher questioned how Jules had passed kindergarten. She told Amsha that he hadn’t been able to write much more than his name on his ‘get to know you’ sheet. He had trouble counting to five and got extremely frustrated when asked the difference between a dog and a cat. 

It took all Amsha had not to burst into tears. 

When she returned home that evening, her husband and son were at the table, the former trying to coax the latter into using his fork to eat his carrots. 

The little boy saw his mother and jumped out of his booster seat, running into her arms screaming “MUMMY!”

She smiled and held him to her chest. “Hi, baby.”

“Dit you tawt to Mitses Hussy?”

“Yes, I talked to Mrs. Hussein,” she told him, “we talked about how you’re doing.”

“Dit see tew you about da puzzou?” He looked at her proudly. “I dit a puzzou dat haff nine piece, an’ I dit it!”

“She did!” Amsha smiled broadly at her son. “I’m so proud of you!” This was true; he’d never finished a nine piece puzzle before. He’d barely even finished a six piece. 

“I so smawt!” Shrill giggles came from him. 

Richard looked exasperated. Lips pursed, he let out a disappointed sigh. 

“You go play for a few minutes, okay? Mummy and Daddy need to talk for a minute.” She gently put Jules back down and he nodded, wandering off into the living room. Then she turned to Richard. “She said he needs to go to a special school.”

“What?” Richard stood up angrily. “That’s a _lie_! He’ll catch up! He just needs more time!”

“No he won’t! He’ll never catch up! She called in the school counselor yesterday; he said he definitely has a learning disability and needs to be in a special education program!”

“Unacceptable!” He pounded his fist on the table and Amsha jumped, moving herself farther away from her husband. 

Her voice was weak and her heart was pounding. “Please don’t yell. You’ll scare Jules.”

He marched over to her with flared nostrils and slapped her so hard she stumbled back. 

“Stop! Please!” She begged, reaching into the pocket of her jacket and pulling out a PADD. “Please. For Jules’ sake. They recommended Dodson Academy. It’s close enough that he could sleep here, and their systems are specifically designed for children like Jules.”

Richard snatched the PADD and threw it on the floor before crushing it under his boot. “NO! I _REFUSE_ TO SEND MY SON TO SOME... SOMEWHERE THAT’LL ALLOW HIM TO BE RETARDED!”

“WELL WHAT DO _YOU_ WANT TO DO ABOUT THIS!” She screamed back, having given up on being civil. “BEAT HIM UNTIL HE MAGICALLY CATCHES UP! WELL SORRY, BUT _LIFE DOESN’T WORK THAT WAY_!” 

This is when Richard has _really_ had enough and grabs his wife by the throat and throws her to the ground. “MAYBE IF YOU WEREN’T SUCH AN ENABLING BITCH-“

Tears welled in Amsha’s eyes, “THEN YOU’D KILL HIM! DON’T DENY IT, YOU’D-“

“I WOULD NEVER DO _ANYTHING_ TO HURT MY SON!”

“M-Mummy?” Jules’ tiny face peeked around the corner, wet with tears and scrunched into a very pained expression. 

“GO TO YOUR ROOM!” Amsha shouted at him and he disappeared around the corner, his uneven footsteps hurrying upstairs.

“HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME OF BEING A BAD FATHER! THAT BOY LOVES ME AND RESPECTS ME AND-“

“AND _FEARS_ YOU!” There is now murder burning in Amsha’s eyes. 

He then grabbed her arm and yanked her to a standing position. “You’re the one who allows him to fail,” he growled, “it’s all your fault. You didn’t eat good food when you were pregnant; just empty carbs and junk food that stunted his brain. You should’ve listened to me. You should’ve done the exercises I gave you! You should’ve listened to more classical music!”

“I-“ she attempted to respond, to defend herself, but her voice broke with despair. What if he was right? What if it _was_ her fault? Tears broke free of her eyes and streamed down her cheeks, burning her skin like acid. 

“I never should’ve married you. You’re pathetic.” His eyes were wilder and angrier than she had ever seen them. 

“I-I’m sorry...”

“You better be. Because I’m not raising a child who can’t even count the fingers on his hand.”

“Well then what do you suggest we do? Abandon him?”

“No.” Richard shook his head, becoming less angry and more cruel and calculated. “No. Amsha, do you remember my old friend, Layla Alberts?”

“Th-the geneticist?” She nodded and tried to meet his eyes, but his gaze was still like an atom bomb. 

“Yes. She and her team have been working on some... experimental procedures.”

“What k-kind?”

“Genetic procedures. On Humanoids. The kind of procedures that can raise someone’s IQ, and improve their coordination.”

“But that’s illegal!”

“Only if we got caught.” There was a cruel, twisted smirk on Richard’s face. “We could fake documents, take Jules in for the procedures, and return with a child who would be at the top of his class. A child who wouldn’t _need_ help.”

Amsha was silent as she looked at the floor, and hesitantly nodded. 

The procedures would mean that Jules wouldn’t struggle anymore. He would understand the material that was given to him. He wouldn’t need Dodson Academy. He could be successful. 

The next few weeks, the Bashirs prepared their scheme. Any lasting doubt had been pushed to the back of Amsha’s mind. 

They planned it all out to the smallest detail; they took Jules out of school and scheduled the procedure to take place in November on Adigeon Prime. 

The night before they were scheduled to leave on the transport, the three of them were all packed and ready for the trip. But the doubt that Amsha had hidden in the back of her mind the last two months returned, keeping her wide awake while Richard and Jules slept soundly. 

It was like being punched in the stomach continuously. Her chest was heavy and she could barely breathe. Was this really the right thing to do? Completely change everything about their precious little boy? She thought back to two summers ago, when Jules was five. His beloved Kukalaka had torn, stuffing pouring out. Richard took it and tossed it in the bin. But Jules caught onto that and just wasn’t having it. After throwing a particularly intense tantrum, he pulled up his kiddie potty and stood on it so he could reach into the bin. Amsha had found him in her closet that afternoon, carefully and with complete determination, sewing the old bear’s rip with bright orange thread. The stitching was horrendously uneven and he poked himself enough times to have a pile of blood-stained tissues beside him, but when he was done, he was so proud of himself and told everyone about it for weeks to come. Amsha was proud of him too; Jules _was_ a clever boy, even if not particularly intelligent. 

Shit. 

What was wrong with her? She couldn’t just let her little boy’s genes be altered! No. He was perfect just the way he was. That was the last time she would let Richard intimidate her. 

Quietly, she got out of bed, making absolutely certain that Richard was asleep. She snuck into Jules’ room and grabbed his favorite dinosaur backpack, emptied out his school supplies, and stuffed it full of his favorite clothes, toys, and picture books. After slinging it over her shoulder, Amsha gently woke the boy up. 

“Jules!” She whispered as he yawned and stretched. “Jules, we’re leaving.”

Too tired to understand what was just said, Jules slipped out of bed. 

Hand-in-hand, the two walked out of the house into the chilly air. It was Egypt, so there was no snow and they didn’t have to worry about frostbite. 

Amsha led her son to the nearest transport station and got two tickets for the 0220 transport to Israel. They never looked back.


	2. Chapter 2

Jules began waking up for real when they were sitting in the waiting room of the local Housing Department in Jerusalem, filling out paperwork so they could have an apartment there, only a few minutes’ walk from Amsha’s parents. They had offered to let them stay with them, but Amsha was independent and very stubborn. 

“Mummy?” Jules tugged her pajama sleeve. “Mummy where we now?”

“Our new home.” She smiled at him, looking into his bright, curious hazel eyes. What a beautiful boy. His olive skin matched her own, his dark hair twisted in curls that did whatever they wanted. His tongue poking out from between his lips as if to taste his new surroundings, the way he sat with his legs tucked restlessly under him. She couldn’t believe just a day ago, she was ready to change everything about him. 

“Daddy comink?”

“No. Daddy’s not coming. But that’s okay. We’ll live right near Grappy and Nanna, and I’ll treat you with all the love that you deserve,” she ruffled his hair then wrapped her arm around him. 

“Mummy, I hungy.” Jules pouted.

“What would you like?”

“Hmmm...” he tapped his chin, no doubt imitating some old television shows Richard loved so much. “Wa’ sawbwey i’keem.”

“You can’t have ice cream for breakfast, dear.” 

“No, _sawbwey i’keem_!” Jules shook his head. 

“No strawberry ice cream either.” Amsha chuckled. Jules still didn’t understand the idea that strawberry ice cream _was_ ice cream. While Richard had found it infuriating, she thought it was cute. 

“Pwea?” He did some puppy dog eyes that probably would’ve worked on anyone who wasn’t his parents. 

“Nope. You can have pancakes.”

“O-tay. I wa’ pak’k’ks,” he grinned, looking up at Amsha expectantly. 

“Alright,” she stood up and set the forms aside, “I’ll go get some; you stay here, okay?”

“O-tay!”

......

“Gwappy! Nanna!” 

It had been two days since Amsha took Jules and left her husband, and she’d spent it replicating the furniture and clothes they needed, looking for a job, and enrolling Jules in a special needs school. 

Now, her parents were visiting them in their new apartment for the first time. 

Jules ran to them, excited. 

His Nanna crouched down and hugged him. “Jules! There’s my grandson! There he is!” She pinched his cheeks and kissed his forehead. She and Jules’ Grappy hadn’t seen them since summer holiday. 

“I have a present for you!” Grappy smiled and reached into his bag. “I found it at an antique store and I thought you’d like it.” He brought out a worn-out cardboard box of Megablocks that had to have been over 300 years old. 

Jules ducked under Nanna’s arms and ran to the box, squealing. 

Amsha smiled as she watched her baby boy dump the box out and start rummaging through the brightly colored plastic blocks, giggling and babbling. Grappy sat down with him and encouraged him to build something, gently showing the boy how to put them together and take them apart. 

“Amsha, dear, are you alright?” Her mother wrapped her arm around her shoulders, “you look sad.”

Sobbing tears of joy, Amsha shook her head, “I’ve never been happier.”

........

It was January now, and Jules’ first day at his new school. His uniform consisted of a navy sweater vest with the school’s crest on the right breast, a short sleeved white polo, and navy shorts. Amsha had tried to make his hair stay down, but it refused and his wild wavy hair towered almost three inches on top of his head. 

“Are you excited?” Amsha asked as she walked him up the school’s front steps.

“Wha’s issided?” He tilted his head at her. 

Crouching down to his level, she straightened his vest, “it means you’re really happy to be here, and you want to go learn and make friends.”

“Oh... yeah. Den I issided,” his curls bounced with his energetic nodding. 

“You’re going to do great!”

“Betause I so smawt?”

“Because you’re so smart,” she gave him a big hug. 

...

There was a loud knocking on the door at about 2240 one night that March, and Amsha rushed to answer so it wouldn’t wake up Jules. She gasped when she saw that it was Richard. 

“Wh-what are you doing here?” She gripped the doorknob firmly, ready to swing the door closed if she had to. 

“I’m here,” he pushed his way in, scowling at his ex-wife, “because I’ve been looking for you for the past four months. I assume you changed your mind.”

“You’re damn right,” keeping herself between Richard and Jules’ bedroom door, she retorted, “Jules is perfect just the way he is. You will never take him back. Or me. Go away.”

“We could’ve fixed him.”

“There’s nothing to fix!”

“Oh really?” Richard cocked an eyebrow. “Tell me, how high can he count?”

“Umm... four, on his own...” she replied, bracing herself for a slap or worse, “but that’s not his fault! The specialists at his school said his IQ is 87.”

“87!” He scoffed and shook his head. “87 is barely above _retarded_!”

“_Don’t call him that_!” Amsha gritted her teeth in anger, “if you had just _paid attention_ to your son, you’d know that what he lacks in intelligence, he more than makes up for in kindness and spirit. Just last week, his friend lost his toy shuttle, and Jules gave him his own! I’m proud of him. For that, plus the way he doesn’t give up and how he _wants_ to understand things.”

“If you’d gone along with the plan, he _would_ understand things!” She noticed him clenching his fist; he stood over her, threatening. 

“If I’d gone with your plan, he would’ve ended up like Kahn Noonien Singh. There’s a reason eugenics are illegal.” She placed a hand on his chest, trying to push him back out of the apartment. “That little boy in the other room is brimming with love and happiness and determination. Yet you were willing to destroy that for the sake of your own pride. You’re a horrible person, Richard Hasim Bashir. You don’t deserve Jules.”

He roughly pushed her aside and marched towards Jules’ room. 

No. He wasn’t going to hurt Jules. Not again. 

Amsha jumped onto his back with all the weight she had, arms wrapped around his neck, screaming for help in hopes that one of the neighbors would hear and step in.

“GET OFF ME, BITCH!” Richard clawed her hands off him; there was a thud as she fell on the ground. He grabbed the doorknob and swung Jules’ door open. 

“Aah!?” Jules’ voice trembled from within the room. 

“Come on, Jules; you’re coming home with me,” Richard disappeared into the room and Amsha heard Jules struggling against him. 

She scrambled up and into the room, seeing Richard dragging Jules out of bed by his arm. “LEAVE HIM ALONE!” She shrieked, throwing a shoe at Richard. 

“YOU KIDNAPPED HIM!”

Jules was wailing, face red and wet with tears. He didn’t understand what was happening; he just knew his parents were fighting and he was scared. Amsha moved to wrap her arms around him. 

“DON’T TOUCH HIM!” Richard punched her in the nose. 

She fell back, bleeding profusely from her bruised nose. 

“MUMMY!” Jules cried and tried to get to Amsha, but Richard kept his grip. 

“YOU THERE! STEP AWAY FROM THE KID!” A man appeared in the doorway, pointing a phaser at Richard. 

Richard hesitated before letting go of Jules and putting his hands up. Jules put his hands up too. 

“What’s going on here?” The man asked, still aiming at Richard. 

Amsha moved forward and held Jules in her arms. “It’s okay, baby,” she ruffled his hair, “it’s okay.”

....... 

Amsha held Jules’ hand for the entire trial; he didn’t understand that his father was going to prison on numerous charges, which made her heart heavy and light at the same time. On one hand, it made it easier; somehow the futility of explaining it to him made it easier for her to move on and not go into the deeper emotions. But on the other hand, it made her feel helpless; if Jules couldn’t understand this, then what _could_ he understand?

“Mummy?” Jules said as the courtroom was emptying after the guilty verdict had been announced. 

“Yes, darling?”

“I sowwy I detawded.”

That broke her heart and she held him, sobbing into his hair. “You don’t need to be sorry, Jules,” she whispered shakily, “about anything. It’s not your fault.”

“Ip I not detawded, den Daddy don’ huwt you. Den we don’ haff do leef.” His voice was muffled against her chest. 

She shook her head, “it’s a bit more complicated than that. Daddy hurt me because he was mad, not because you’re retarded.” 

But it wasn’t more complicated.

.......

“Ond... doo... twee... por... pipe... tix... umm,...” Jules was leaning forward over the table, trying to count the candles on his birthday cake. “Wai’,...” he scratched his head before starting over, “ond... doo... twee...”

The candles had been burning for almost twenty minutes; everyone who was there at Jules’ eighth birthday party was watching silently, eager to see if the boy could do it. 

“Seven,” Amsha offered, pointing to the next candle he came across; he swatted her hand away and started over. 

“Ond... doo... twee...”

........

Jules was so excited the first time he came home with an addition test that he scored a six out of ten on. He greeted his mother at the school entrance babbling excitedly, beaming, holding up the paper so everyone could see.

The problems were very basic single-digit addition, but Amsha was so proud of him. He had gotten over half of the problems correct- all by himself!

After school that day, Amsha took the now nine-year-old out for ice cream to celebrate. He bounced in his seat the whole time, telling everyone who even walked by the table about his test. When someone would give him a dirty or annoyed look, Amsha glared at them and they would smile and go about their business.

“Mummy, cat I hap a puppy?” Jules asked out of the blue. 

“Um, well, I don’t know...” Amsha felt bad, but still, taking care of a puppy in addition to Jules seemed like a very daunting task; and all by herself, well that felt impossible. Jules would only want to play with it; _she_ would be the one training it and feeding it and taking care of it. Jules had just learned how to use a fork correctly. 

“_Pwead_, Mummy?!” The boy begged. 

“I’ll think about it,” she lied, having already decided no, and hoping that he would just forget all about the request in a few days. 

.......

“Oh no! That’s actually a great idea!” Jalila Kader pointed out when Amsha mentioned it at a play date a week later. “We got our dog not long after Sara was diagnosed; it’s really helped her.”

“Really?” Amsha creased her forehead. “It’s not too much of a hassle? Don’t you have to take care of it yourself?”

“For the most part, yes,” Jalila adjusted her silvery hijab and took a sip of coffee, “but Sara helps- or tries to, anyway- and has even taken to taking a bath with her- only needing supervision!”

“She’s bathing herself?” Amsha raised her eyebrows in surprise, looking out the window at the five children playing together in the backyard, specifically at Sara Kader, who was much lower-functioning than Jules. Jules could barely even find the soap in the bath, let alone _bathe_ himself.

“Yes! Well sometimes she still gets stuck underwater,- hence the supervision- but once you pull her back up, she’s perfectly content to stay in there for hours washing herself and the dog; she’s made a game out of it!”

“Really?”

........

Two afternoons later, Amsha picked Jules up from school promising a surprise. 

“Wha’ idd it?” He beamed as he hung off her arm. 

“You’ll see!”

She led him almost five blocks away, right to a small animal shelter. 

Jules gasped and pointed at the logo. “PUPPY!”

“That’s right!” she said as she led him inside. 

“Hi there!” The owner of the shelter came out from the back room and smiled at the boy. “You must be Jules.”

“Yah!” Jules nodded excitedly. “I getty a puppy duh-day?”

“My name is Anthony,” the owner chuckled, “tell me, what kind of puppy do you want? We have lots- all kinds of different breeds, ages, and personalities!”

Jules creased his forehead. “Whassa... poo-sat-alty?”

“Well it’s...” Anthony replied, “it’s sort of...”

“It’s how they are.” Amsha explained. 

“Umm... otay.” Jules shrugged. “I wa’a see ta puppies!” He jumped excitedly. 

“Okay,” Anthony stood up and took Jules’ hand, “let’s go!”

They were led out onto the back porch, which was fenced off from the rest of the backyard. Immediately, dozens of dogs came running and barking towards them, the front runners standing on their back legs to get a good look over the fence. There were big dogs and little dogs, all sorts of breeds and colors. 

Jules leaned over the fence, petting as many dogs as he could as they competed for attention as he giggled wildly. But then he looked up and frowned. 

“What’s wrong?” Amsha managed to talk over the canine cacophony.

He just simply pointed at a black lab laying down under a tree in the far side of the yard. It was just close enough for them to be able to see that it had a white bandage on its front leg and was looking at the porch longingly. 

Anthony sighed. “That’s Bethany. She has Brittle Bone Disease, so she can’t roughhouse. Kids don’t like that; she’s been here since she was a puppy; six years.”

Jules looked truly distressed by this. For a second, Amsha was sure he was going to cry. But instead, he turned to Anthony and said, “I wa’ Beffadee.”

“Are you sure?” Amsha asked. “Are you sure you don’t want a dog you can run around with?”

“I wa’ dat ond. No ond ewse wa’ to luff. I wiw.”

..........

Jules and Bethany were the perfect match. On the way home from the shelter, they carried her in a little wagon, Jules walking alongside her, pointing to things and babbling about them. The dog was clearly very happy and eager. 

They played together quite well. Sure they couldn’t roughhouse or anything, but Jules was perfectly content to sit with her and play gently. 

The fact that Jules understood that Bethany was excessively fragile stunned Amsha, but only a little; Jules had always been a kind, empathetic boy. He could tell when someone was hurting and wanted to make them feel better. It was a beautiful thing. 

Over the next few months, the drastic improvement Sara’s mother described didn’t happen with Jules; he still struggled with basic tasks like using the toilet and putting used dishes back in the replicator. Amsha had been able to coax him to help her bathe Bethany, but other than rubbing the suds in on a single spot on the dog’s back, he didn’t _actually_ help much. But he tried. That was the important thing. Whenever he tried to help his mother, he’d look back up at her with a grin on his face as if to say, “am I doing a good job, Mummy?”

“You’re doing great!” she would reply, “you’re a wonderful helper!”

.........

One day when Jules was twelve, he came out of the school with a mischievous smirk on his face. 

“Now what’s that about?” Amsha cocked an eyebrow. 

“I learn a new wort.” He giggled. 

“Oh really? What word?” 

“Shit.” Jules replied plainly.

When Amsha raised her eyebrows, Jules furrowed his. 

“Why you not laughink?”

“_Where_ did you learn that word?” She replied sternly. 

“At school,” Jules explained, “da teatser dopped a bunch of pepers ind see sait dat. See sait ‘_shit_’!”

Amsha shook her head, “I’ve been trying to teach you the word ‘silverware’ for years and you still don’t know it, but you hear that word once and it’s your favorite word?”

Jules attempted to smile innocently, and Amsha laughed and put a hand on his shoulder. 

“Just don’t say it again,” she advised him. 

“Why not?” 

“Because it’s not a nice word.”

..........

Teenage Jules had developed a rather unfortunate habit of touching himself in public; despite Amsha telling him repeatedly that he could only do that when no one else was around, he would reach into his pants whenever the mood struck him. She made it a point to pack an extra pair of pants whenever he went to school or whenever they went on outings, even to the grocery store. 

Amsha lost count of how many times in those years she had to whisper-shout at him to get his hand out of his pants. 

Then, as quickly as he had started, he stopped. And it just so happened to be the day Bethany died. 

Jules was fifteen, and he undoubtedly knew that his beloved dog was in her last days. When she lost interest in playing with him, he spent hours cuddling with her, reading her picture books like he always had, petting her and telling her what a good dog she was. He tried to make her comfortable, experimenting with different positions to hold her in. But eventually, the poor dog was in constant pain. 

A few days later, she didn’t wake up. 

Jules cried for her; he curled up in her dog bed, making the fabric wet with his tears.

Bethany’s death crushed Amsha, of course, but the way Jules held onto her body with all his strength, the way he wailed when it was time to bury her, the way he slept with her dog bed every night for nearly four months, that was what really hurt. Even though she helped him through the loss, there was no way to stop his pain; it had to pass on its own. 

.........

“We’re considering moving him up to Level Five next semester.” Jules’ academic advisor informed Amsha.

“Really?!” Amsha’s eyes were wide with excitement. 

The advisor smiled, “of course! He’s a very curious young man. Exceptionally bright for his level. You look surprised.”

“Not _really_. I just... when he was younger, I didn’t think he’d ever get this far.”

“We get that a lot. Parents always praise _us_ for helping their children, but they usually don’t realize that it was mostly _them_. You did a great job with your son.”

“Th-thank you.”

When she got home, she told Jules about this; the 17-year-old’s eyes lit up with excitement.

It was exciting, yes, but also extremely overwhelming. He’d come so far, Amsha could hardly believe this was the same little boy she’d left her old life to protect all those years ago. Though he definitely wasn’t little anymore; he had grown into a rather dashing young man, a near mirror image of his father except for his unruly hair that, much like Amsha’s in its natural state, refused to lay down flat or be tamed. If she remembered correctly, that had been one of the things Richard had wanted to change. Jules was tall and lanky, mostly leg; the length of his limbs definitely didn’t help his hand-eye coordination, as sometimes he flailed wildly and tripped over his own feet. But he was _trying_. He was always trying. She was proud of him for that. 

They were both excited to see what was in store for him. He had decided years ago that he wanted to be a doctor; Amsha was sure he knew that wasn’t possible, but she didn’t want to discourage him. She could see how important the idea of helping people was to him. 

......

He was 22 when he finally graduated school. When each student walked up on stage, the dean read out their greatest accomplishments, what they should be proud of. 

They started with the students who aged out still at level one; they were profoundly handicapped and would need constant care until the day they died. Richard would’ve scoffed at their accomplishments; completing simple puzzles, learning basic addition, drawing straight lines. 

When those students’ part of the ceremony was done, they moved onto level two, then three, and so on. 

Jules had graduated at level five out of seven levels total. There were 12 students in level five including him. Since it went alphabetically, he was first. 

“Julian Bashir. 26th highest final grade in his age group, highest in his level, basic understanding of single-digit multiplication, Wells’ Compassion and Determination Award recipient 2351,...” Jules had a bright grin and a spring in his step as he shook the dean’s hand and collected his certificate. 

When they got home, Amsha immediately hung up the certificate above the fireplace, along with the four chords he’d worn with his cap and gown; a blue one for his Wells’ Award, a gold one for having the highest comprehension score in his level, a red one for advancing through the levels so quickly, and a white one for a leadership award he’d received for helping his fellow students without being asked. 

“Now, it’s my future,” Jules quoted the what school’s headmaster had said at the end of the ceremony. 

“Yes, it is,” tearing up, Amsha wrapped her arm around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof! Sorry that took so long. 
> 
> Any thoughts?
> 
> It’s not the end. Not at all.


	3. Chapter 3

On the way to Leos III, nearly 23-year-old Jules continuously exclaimed to everyone who would listen that he was going to be a “doctor”.

He wasn’t, of course, but his mother went along with it, encouraging him like she always had. Besides, this was the closest thing to being a doctor he was ever going to be. 

Amsha had mentioned his wish in casual conversation with some of the other parents at Jules’ graduation party, and one of them had replied that he had a daughter who had just recently completed her doctorate a few years before and was now working as a psychiatrist at a mental institution; he offered to put her in contact with her in case Jules wanted to shadow her a bit. When asked, Jules agreed with as much enthusiasm as he’d ever agreed to anything with. 

With that, they had been put in contact with Dr. Karen Loew, and she invited them to stay with her for a few months, exclaiming that she would _love_ to let Jules shadow her. 

Leos III was five hours away from Earth at warp; Amsha kept waiting for Jules to tire himself out, as it would be nearly midnight by the time they would arrive. But he was still wide awake, trying to make conversation with exhausted passengers, even as the ship was docking. 

They spotted Dr. Loew almost immediately after they stepped out of the airlock; she had a large PADD with their names on it raised above her blonde head. 

“Mum, that it’s her!” Jules pointed and tugged Amsha’s shirt.

“Yes, I think it is. Let’s go,” she led him through the clamoring crowd, holding his hand so he wouldn’t get lost.

They were greeted with a broad grin as Dr. Loew pulled them into a hug. “It’s great to meet you! You must be Julian! I’ve heard a lot about you!”

“Yeah, I’m Julian!” The young man smiled with some odd glint in his eyes that Amsha had never seen before. “I heared about you. Do are we going to the hoppitol now?”

The doctor giggled. “Well _someone’s_ an eager beaver! No, sweetheart. We’re going to my house to eat and sleep; we’ll go to the hospital in the morning, okay?”

Jules furrowed his brows. “I’m isn’t a eager beaver. I a Human.”

She gently patted him on the shoulder. “It’s an expression. Do you know what that means?”

“Umm... I heared about a expression, but no I don’t know what that means.” 

“An expression is something someone says to show how they feel about something.” 

Amsha made note of the fact that the doctor was talking slow, but not condescendingly slow, and keeping eye contact with Jules; she appreciated this. 

A frown crossed Jules’ face and he looked hurt. “You feel like I a beaver?”

“No, of course not,” she chuckled and shook her head. “I guess I don’t even know how to explain it myself!”

Jules echoed her laughter, still looking very confused.

Amsha wrapped her arm around her son, “well let’s go!”

It was a very pleasant evening as they made their way to Dr. Loew’s apartment. She lived on the seventeenth floor of her building, so she had a magnificent view of the city that spread out for miles and captivated both Jules and Amsha.

“It’s _beautiful_!” Amsha said, staring out the living room window as her son helped the doctor set the table, spilling almost half of the soup out of the bowls he carried so Dr. Loew had to re-replicate it. To his credit, he didn’t _drop_ any bowls.

“Thanks. The view was the main selling point for me, to be honest.”

“You’re lucky,” Jules chimed in, placing a basket of rolls on the edge of the table. “At my room, you just see the next building. But the ‘parmmat it’s next to the dog park, so that’s okay.”

“Oh, you like dogs?” Dr. Loew smiles at him.

Jules nodded and picked up the silverware from the replicator, holding it away from himself. “I _love_ dogs! I used to have one, but she died. I like to go to the dog park to play with the dogs. I really miss Bethany, though. She was a good dog.” He then proceeded to tell her all about Bethany in odd fragments. Below the surface, Amsha could tell he was slightly frustrated at his own inability to get his thoughts out, but at the same time, he kept smiling and looking at Dr. Loew.

“I think you’re getting tired.” Amsha chuckled about halfway through the meal as Jules, who was yet to stop talking about seemingly everything and anything that crossed his mind was starting to stumble over his words more than usual.

Jules being the stubborn person he was denied this, of course, and continued describing the games he used to play with his friends from school. “Gona Dri, that one, my friend, he’s part And’rian. He show us to play, it was a game and, and uh, hold on... Gona was is... I’m pretty sure he didn’t die yet. I saw him a graduation. So it’s is because people they don’t stop being the same species. He is part And’rian, and he is also mostly Human, I think. But that doesn’t matter. He show ev’yone how to play a game, I don’t remember what it called. Gona show us a game f’om And’ia. I don’t remember what it called. It has um, it has a ball, act’lly a lot of balls. You have to put all the green balls in the green box and all the purple balls... the balls are green and purple, but not together; some balls are green and some are purple... in the purple box. You have to do it before time runs out. It’s fun.” He had almost gone cross-eyed trying to keep his thoughts straight, which he hadn’t needed to do for _years_ unless he was absolutely exhausted.

“Interesting.” Dr. Loews nodded. “I think it’s called Jahaxa or something like that.”

“Oh, you heared about it?”

“I had Andorian friends when I was in school. I was never really interested in sports, but they talked about it a lot.”

“Oh, okay,” Jules yawned, then realized that he yawned and looked at Amsha, “I’m not tired.”

Both women chuckled. 

“Yeah, I think we should get to bed,” Dr. Loew, or Karen as she told them to call her, said, stretching her arms, “we have an early start in the morning.”

“Fine,” Jules sighed, crossing his arms and sinking back in his chair, “I guess... I gets... I am I is a... a bit tired...”

Amsha stood next to him, just in case he needed help walking towards the guest room. She was relieved when he was able to manage just fine, stubbornly pushing away the hand she’d offered. 

“I am... I am is a adult, Mum,” he mumbled as he shuffled across the room, “I don’t I don’t need your help.” 

The guest bedroom was tucked away in the corner of the apartment, equipped with two twin beds and a nice view of the city below. The room was decorated like a beach house, which Amsha adored; the walls were mint green and decorated with seashell art, the dresser had pearly white paint that was designed to show bits of the wood underneath, the mirror was framed with a red and white striped lifesaver, and the comforters on each bed were striped mint and white with seashell sheets.

“Do you need to go to the bathroom before bed?” Amsha put her hand on her son’s shoulder before he got in bed, as once he was laying down he wouldn’t want to get up until morning. 

Jules pauses for a moment, before shaking his head and proceeding to pull down the bedding to get in. 

“Alright, sweetheart. I’m going to go see if Karen needs any help cleaning up.” She turned off the light and closed the door behind her. 

Karen was stacking up their empty bowls at the table. 

“Need any help?”

The younger woman looked up at her. “Uh,... yeah, yeah... could you take these to the replicator?” She held the bowls out to Amsha, who took them and put them in the replicator as Karen stacked up the placemats. “You have a wonderful son. I really am excited to be working with him.”

Amsha took the bowls to the matter reclaimer and replied, “thank you. I’m very proud of him.”

“I’m sure you are. It couldn’t have been easy.”

“Certainly not as easy as raising an average child, but I have no complaints.”

When Amsha returned to the guest room, Jules was sound asleep. She kissed him on the forehead before changing into her pajamas and slipping into her own bed. Ok

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that took so long. I’ve been really busy with college and stuff, and also I’ve been really scatterbrained and haven’t been able to concentrate on this. 
> 
> There’ll be more updates soon.


End file.
